


I Must Have Done Something Good

by WritingScribe



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Slow Burn, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony has a lot of love for his fellow scientists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-04-29 20:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14480682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingScribe/pseuds/WritingScribe
Summary: Tony belongs to the "Engineering" club at MIT. Steve is part of the Aeronautics club. A few years ago there was an "incident" involving Tony, Steve and the accidental burning down of the Aeronautics clubhouse. Tony has been avoiding the club and all of its members, but an upcoming competition means that the two clubs have to work together.It's a shitty summary because although I have a vague idea, I don't actually know where exactly I'm going with this quite yet. The above summary is what really kicks off the story.





	1. Oh, What a Circus

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or the idea of them all attending a university together, but I would like to take credit for the way I link things that happen in this story to the events of MCU, because I think it's awesome.
> 
> Most of this is based on the movies, because that's what I know, and then other fics that I have read that have given me information about the comics (eg. Clint's deafness).
> 
> I'm doing this as a way to both better my own writing through practice and constructive criticism, so comments and kudos are more than welcome, and also as a way to try and improve my writing habits by setting myself a deadline each week, so every Sunday you'll see a new chapter.
> 
> The Russian nicknames that Natasha gives Clint are generally the names of small birds; in this chapter she calls him "sparrow". I know approximately four Russian words, so those are all from Google Translate. Please let me know if I get anything wrong. I don't know if Clint knows Russian, so I decided that in this fic he does.
> 
> I'm going to try and include as many Marvel characters as I can because Infinity War gave me FEELS, but it would take me forever to add them all into the tags, so just know that there will be a lot of MCU appearances.
> 
> The title comes from the songs "Something Good" from "The Sound of Music" and I'm going to use lines from songs to title my chapters.
> 
> At the moment the rating is teen, but that might change.
> 
> That should be everything. If you have any questions just give a yell!
> 
> PS. I have absolutely no idea what the timeline of this story is. I want it to end around Steve's birthday, which in this fic will be the fourth of July, which means that it is entirely possible that I have added more months to the year. Oops. We'll call it artistic license and be done with it.

“No,” Tony said flatly. “No, absolutely not.”

From her position at the head of the table, Pepper Potts pressed her fingers into her temples, closing her eyes in exasperation.

“Tony,” she began, but Tony cut her off.

“I have money, Pep,” he said. “Let me pay for it. We don’t have to sink to… this.”

Natasha Romanoff, the gorgeous redhead who Tony was ninety-eight per cent sure was a Russian spy in her spare time, rolled her eyes.

“Let her finish, Stark,” she said, lounging back in her chair. “You haven’t even heard what needs to be done.”

Tony scowled, but waved for Pepper to continue. She glared at him before returning to her notes.

“We have the usual things,” she began, looking up at the group and quite deliberately avoiding Tony. “Raffles, events, someone suggested a play – “  
Tony snorted. Pepper ignored him.

“– and we’re going to host a party with one of the other clubs.”

From her place beside Natasha, Shuri, sister and main inventor of the owner and CEO of one of the world’s biggest technological companies in the world, and the only person in the entire university whose family had more money than Tony’s, straightened up.

“Which club?” she asked curiously. James Rhodes, Tony’s best friend, caught her eye and shook his head ever so slightly. Tony’s eyes narrowed.

“Which club, Pep?” he asked. Pepper sighed.

“Aeronautics,” she muttered. Tony shot to his feet, his chair making a horrible screeching noise against the tiles.

“I will not,” he said immediately.

“Tony,” Pepper said, but again, Tony interrupted her.

“Don’t you Tony me,” he said sharply. “It’s bad enough that you’re making me do fundraising, but to make me do it with them – “

“They’re really not as bad as you make them out to be, Tones,” Rhodey said, frowning. Tony gaped at him.

“Betrayal,” he announced, jabbing a finger in Rhodey’s direction. Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Eighteen years we’ve been best friends – “

“Tony – “  
“ – and he denounces me when it most matters – “

“I’m not denouncing you – “

“ – siding with my mortal enemies – “

“You’re being completely ridiculous, Stark.”

Natasha’s sharp voice cut through his ranting and he fell silent. She, Rhodey and Pepper were some of the only people in the world who refused to take his shit, but she was the only person who could actually stop him dishing it out with a one hundred per cent success rate.

“You had a falling-out with them years ago, it’s time to grow up and get over it.”

Tony gaped at her.

“They threatened me with disciplinary action!” he exclaimed.

“You blew up their clubhouse,” Natasha reminded him, her voice filled with exasperation. “I think they were allowed their moment.”

“Okay, one,” Tony said, pointing at her, “I did not blow up their clubhouse. I barely even set fire to anything. And two, why are they allowed their moment but I’m not?”

“Because one of their people had to go to the hospital,” Pepper told him.

“That was not my fault,” Tony protested. “How was I supposed to know that he would rush inside to try and save me and then have an asthma attack?”

Nobody ever needed to know that the clubhouse roof had caught fire because he was trying to impress his would-be hero.

“We are not doing this again,” Pepper said firmly. “It’s been more than a year; it’s time to move past this.”

Despite her words, Tony would have absolutely continued to argue if he hadn’t been interrupted by a knock on the door, which opened to reveal Clint Barton, the only   
person from Aeronautics with whom Tony had remained friends after The Incident, and the other half of Natasha’s spy duo.

“Hi,” he said cheerfully, tripping his way into the room. “Sorry to interrupt, but if you’re done, I need to steal Natasha from you. We have a physical theatre class starting in ten minutes.”

Pepper nodded graciously.

“Of course,” she replied. “We were just wrapping up.”

She turned back to the club.

“The committee will discuss the fundraisers and we’ll let you know what’s happening. I’ll see everyone next week.”

Everyone started packing up their things, chattering excitedly about the upcoming trip, which had suddenly become much more real. Tony was listening to a conversation that Shuri and Peter Parker were having when he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find Natasha and Clint standing behind him.

“Come on,” Natasha said, jerking her head towards the door. Tony frowned.

“I don’t have a physical theatre class now,” he felt obliged to point out. Natasha rolled her eyes. Clint snorted.

“I know you don’t,” Natasha replied patiently. “But we need to have a talk because I’m pretty sure there’s something stupid going on in your head right now.”

“Rude,” Tony grumbled, but he did stand up to follow her. She led him and Clint out of the room and a short way down the corridor, out of hearing distance of the people leaving the room before she turned to face him.

“What is your deal with the Aeronautics Club?” she asked him. Tony frowned.

“You know what my deal is,” he replied. “We were just talking about it. Like, thirty seconds ago.”  
Natasha rolled her eyes.

“We were talking about something that happened nearly three years ago,” she stated.

“Time doesn’t actually heal wounds, you know,” Tony told her.

“What wounds?” Clint interrupted. “Are you talking about Steve’s asthma attack? ‘Cause let me tell you, that’s definitely not going to happen again.”

“It’s not about that,” Tony said, exasperated. “It’s about the fact that I set fire to their clubhouse and the fact that Barnes will not let me live it down.”

The last words came out as something of a whine and Tony immediately regretted them, but it was too late. Natasha’s eyes glinted and a wicked smirk curled around her lips.

“You’re embarrassed,” she stated.

“I am not,” Tony said immediately. Natasha’s smirk widened.

“Yes you are,” she said. “You’re embarrassed that so many people saw you screw up at something that you’re supposed to be really good at.”

Her words struck a chord in Tony and he looked away from her, trying to pass his sudden discomfort off as admitting to the truth of her words.

“There’s really nothing to be worried about,” Clint told him. “Bucky forgave you for the clubhouse ages ago.”

“I’m not looking for his forgiveness,” Tony grumbled. “I just want him to stop bringing up the story every time he sees me.”

Clint shrugged.

“So tell him that,” he replied, surprisingly. “If he knew it upset you so much he’d stop.”

Tony stared at him.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked. “It’s Bucky Barnes. We’re not exactly friends.”

Clint rolled his eyes.

“You don’t need to be friends with someone to be a decent person to them,” he replied. “If you ask Bucky to stop, he will. I think he just likes telling the story because   
it shows that even the best of us screw up sometimes.”

That brought Tony up short.

“Really?” he asked, unable to believe it. “I thought he just did it because he’s an asshole.”

“Oh, he is,” Clint reassured him. “He’s a complete shit. But underneath all of that he’s a really nice guy.”

Natasha muttered something under her breath in Russian and Clint turned to scowl at her. He snapped something back and turned back to Tony.

“Anyway,” he said, somewhat gruffly. “Talk to Bucky. He’ll lay off.”

He turned to look at Natasha who blinked back at him innocently. Judging by his expression, Clint was not buying it.

“Shall we go to class?” he asked her pointedly.

“Of course, воробей,” she replied cheerfully and turned back to Tony, ignoring Clint’s whine of “Naaaat.”

“I’ll see you next week, Tony,” she said, pulling him in for a hug. Tony squeezed her back and released her, shooting Clint a two-fingered salute as they made their   
way back down the corridor, not quite sure how to feel.


	2. Poor Fool, He Makes Me Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin Hammer pays Tony a visit at the lab he shares with Bruce and Jane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song of the same from The Phantom of the Opera. I chose it because I nearly feel off my chair laughing at how perfect it is to describe Hammer.
> 
> The previous chapter title is from Oh What a Circus from Evita.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own neither of these songs, or their respective musicals. Also, I know absolutely nothing about weapons, so I just made up some shit that sounded okay in my head.
> 
> I promise that Steve will eventually make an appearance!
> 
> Please let me know if there are any problems, and enjoy!

It had been nearly a week since Pepper had brought up her fundraising and Tony had quite happily allowed the matter to fully drop from his mind when it was brought up again by a very unexpected source.

“I hear that you have to do fundraising for the Engineering Club,” Bruce Banner commented from his side of the lab that Tony had “borrowed” the keys to from Pepper. It was a space that was open to any member of the engineering club, provided they filled in the correct paperwork, but Tony had never really been one for signing papers and he knew where Pepper kept the key. Jane Foster had been a happy addition to their duo when Bruce had stumbled across her after she was locked out of her lab, and had invited her back to the one Tony had commandeered. Her addition of physics to their dynamic had yielded unsurprisingly fantastic results and the three of them had worked together ever since.

Bruce had been Tony’s first university friend – Pepper and Rhodey didn’t count – and he was the first person Tony met who could actually keep up with him. True, their fields of interest were separate, with Tony studying engineering and Bruce biology, but they were knowledgeable enough in both that they were able to offer insight. When Tony didn’t answer immediately, Bruce lifted his head and looked over to find Tony frowning at him.

“Who told you about that?” he asked.

“Natasha,” Bruce replied, turning back to his work. Tony nodded his understanding, even though Bruce wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. Of course Natasha told him. Tony had no idea of what Bruce and Natasha’s relationship is; at one stage he had thought that it might become romantic, but they had both assured him that there were only platonic feelings there. Whatever it was, though, he knew they were very close.

From the other side of the room, Jane looked up curiously.

“You have to do fundraising?” she asked and at Tony’s nod, frowned.

“Don’t you have like, three millionaires in your club?”

“Billionaires,” Tony corrected. “And there’s only two of us.”

Jane waved away his words impatiently.

“Whatever,” she said. “Why don’t you just pay for it?”

“That’s what I said,” Tony replied, rolling his eyes. “Apparently fundraising is less about getting actual money than it is about ‘teambuilding’.”

His fingers etched quotation marks around the word and Jane grinned at him.

“This must be killing you,” she commented. “What is it that Fury says about you not playing well with others?”

“That is based on Natasha spreading lies and slander about me,” Tony replied immediately. Bruce snorted in the background and Tony turned to glare at him. He shrugged sheepishly.

“He’s not wrong,” he pointed out apologetically. Tony chose not to respond.

“So how are you going to raise money?” Jane asked, pulling the conversation back around to the topic at hand. Tony shrugged.

“Raffles, some idiot decided a play would be a good idea – “

“It actually is,” Jane interrupted thoughtfully. “You could get loads of money from that.”

She caught Tony’s eye as he stared at her and shrugged.

“Just because you think it’s a bad idea doesn’t mean it actually is,” she told him. “What else?”

Tony grimaced.

“A party,” he replied reluctantly, “with the Aeronautics Club.”

At that, Bruce and Jane both turned to stare at him.

“Aeronautics?” Bruce repeated. “Isn’t that the clubhouse you blew up back in third year?”

“I didn’t blow it up,” Tony insisted. The door to the lab swung open, but he paid it no attention. People never stayed long when they realised Tony, Jane and Bruce were in residence. “I made a slight error in calculations and it started a minor fire that happened to reach a weak point in the ceiling, which then collapsed.”

Bruce and Jane exchanged a look, neither of them looking particularly taken in by his explanation.

“If anything,” Tony finished before they could speak, “it was an implosion.”

Jane covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sudden giggle, while Bruce looked at Tony, his expression filled with exasperation. He shook his head slightly and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, a voice interrupted.

“Do mine ears deceive me?” it asked loudly and Tony spun around to find himself face to face with a delighted-looking Justin Hammer. He grinned at Tony.

“Did I actually just hear the great Tony Stark admit that he made a mistake?”

Tony looked at him in disgust. Justin Hammer had once been a friend of his, until it became clear that Tony was streets ahead of him in intelligence and he had grown resentful and spiteful. He had done his best to undermine Tony ever since then and had managed to acquire himself a lackey by the name of Ivan Vanko, whom Tony was sure was actually far more intelligent than Hammer. He had followed Hammer into the room and was standing quietly behind him. The look in his eyes made Tony’s skin crawl, but he ignored it, focussing his attention on Hammer. He shrugged.

“What can I say?” he asked. “It happens, even to the best of us.”

He put a special emphasis on the word ‘best’ and took great pleasure in the way Hammer’s face flushed. It served him right. He had been the one to teach Tony how to insult and belittle people by pointing out all the ways in which he was better than them, more often than not on Tony himself. He forced a smile onto his face.

“From what I’ve heard,” Hammer commented, his tone just innocent enough to do the most damage possible, “you haven’t made much progress with that project, Tony.”

Tony smirked.

“From what I’ve heard, you haven’t made much progress with any projects,” he replied. Jane snorted with laughter and Hammer immediately turned his gaze on her. Tony wasn’t having that.

“What do you want, Hammer?” he asked impatiently and Justin’s attention snapped back to him. He fixed his gaze on Tony and then slowly and deliberately shrugged.

“Nothing much,” he replied. “I just wanted to let you know that my friend Ivan has been observing you and your work and we believe that he has made a breakthrough in one of your little projects.”

Tony frowned.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Hammer nodded to Vanko, who looked back at him impassively until Justin made a disgusted noise and turned back to Tony.

“He doesn’t talk much,” he said, sounding exasperated. “But he doesn’t need to talk to be smarter than you.”

Tony snorted in derision.

“Please,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “I can count on the fingers of one hand the people who are smarter than me, and he is not one of them.”

A strange light glinted in Hammer’s eyes at his words.

“Oh, really?” he asked slyly. “Then how is it that he’s managed to improve on one of your designs?”

Tony had many things, but a limitless store of patience was not one of them.

“Would you please just get to the point?” he asked, having finally grown irritated with the interruption. He had things to do, damnit.

Hammer reached into his pocket and even Tony was surprised when he extracted a gun. It was one that Tony recognised immediately, and would have even if Justin hadn’t explained its origins. For a moment he almost felt worried: it would be just like Hammer to shoot him with one of his own weapons. He would appreciate the irony. But Hammer didn’t shoot him. Instead, he held the weapon out to Tony, who looked at in distaste until Hammer rolled his eyes and laid it on the table. Tony picked it up and immediately began to look it over. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jane take a step closer to Bruce, but he was too focused on the gun in his hands to pay them much attention. He turned the weapon over, inspecting it from every angle.

“You made it smaller,” he noted. “And lighter.”

He peered down the barrel and heard a gasp from either Jane or Bruce behind him but didn’t turn around.

“Longer barrel,” he continued, looking up at Hammer. He avoided Vanko’s gaze. “Helps with wind carry?”

At Justin’s nod, Tony turned back to the gun. He clicked the safety off and cocked the weapon. Pausing briefly to aim – without bothering with the laser – he pulled the trigger. Both Jane and Bruce flinched, and then stared at the wall in front of Tony in confusion when no bullet hit it. Tony wasn’t surprised. Not even Hammer was stupid enough to cart a loaded weapon around campus.

“Smooth trigger,” Tony commented, sounding impressed as he lowered the gun. “Barely any recoil.”

He handed the gun back to Hammer and allowed him to bask in his triumph for precisely three seconds.

“Of course,” he continued, completely losing interest as he turned back to his own project, “I designed that when I was sixteen and it’s been upgraded approximately eight times since then, so congratulations, you managed improve on a gun’s design in a way that makes it worse than its current model.”

Hammer stared at him, aghast, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Worse…” he finally managed, sounding like he was being strangled.

“Yes, that’s what I said,” Tony agreed, leaning over his table. “Could you move? You’re blocking my workspace.”

When Hammer stayed in the same place, looking as though he had no intention of moving, Tony sighed and reached out to catch hold of his shoulders to steer him out of the way. The moment Tony touched him, however, he suddenly regained his ability to move and wrenched himself free from Tony’s grip.

“This isn’t over, Tony,” he snarled and spun around to storm out of the room. Vanko took one more moment to stare at Tony before following him. Tony didn’t bother to watch them go. Silence fell in the lab.

“What isn’t over?” Jane asked, breaking it. Tony shrugged.

“I never know with him,” he replied bemusedly. “He’s had this weird rivalry going on with me since we were, like, nine.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You should watch out for him, Tony,” Bruce said, a concerned frown marring his features. “That friend of his looks like a real piece of work.”

Tony waved away his concern.

“It’ll be fine,” he replied. “I’m smarter than him, I’m richer than him. What can he do?”


	3. Master of the House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We discover how Tony burned the clubhouse down (sort of).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from the song of the same name from the musical "Les Miserables" because Tony is the Master of the Lab.
> 
> For some reason, when I read what I've written, Pepper is coming across as a real pain. I'm not quite sure why that is, but if it's bugging you, please know that I am aware of it and will try to fix it.
> 
> If there are any mistakes, please let me know. Enjoy!

It was nearly midnight by the time Tony managed to make his way back to the lab. Bruce and Jane had decided to clock off at around five and to stop them asking questions, Tony had left with them. Five o’clock on a Wednesday meant that Rhodey would still be in lectures, but Pepper would have finished, so it was to her that Tony headed, stopping on the way to pick up coffee for himself and tea for her from his favourite coffee shop. She had seemed slightly surprised to see him, but had invited him in with a smile that had widened when he had produced her tea. Normally they would sit and chat for at least a few hours, but today she had cut their visit short because she was meeting with the chairman of the Aeronautical Club. Tony had whined at her about it, but she had told him quite firmly that the meeting had been scheduled for a week now and she wasn’t putting it off.

“What kind of university student schedules meetings?” Tony had asked as she ushered into the corridor, where he suddenly found himself face to face with James Barnes. His grey eyes had widened in surprise upon seeing Tony and he had asked if he would be attending their meeting, to which Tony and Pepper had both replied with an emphatic “no”. Barnes had raised an eyebrow, but hadn’t questioned them further.

After that, Tony had found himself back in the room he shared with Tony and they had spent a happy hour bitching about the lecturer they shared. Tony was distracted, though, and it was with less enthusiasm than usual that he tried to convince Rhodey not to go to the library to get started on a project. As soon as Rhodey was gone, Tony had pulled a well-worn notebook and had buried himself in it until it was safe to return to the lab, when he knew that no one would be around.

The labs were different at night. Most of the machinery had been switched off, but there was still enough running for a quiet humming to filter through the rooms. There were no people talking – or swearing – nobody to walk past to peer in at what you were doing, nobody ducking into the room to ask if they could borrow something. There was also nobody to complain if your music was too loud. Tony swung his backpack off his shoulders to take out his speaker and fished in his pocket to retrieve his USB. He placed the speaker on an unused table, plugged in the USB and was immediately blasted by Black Sabbath.

“That’s better,” he said aloud, even though he could barely hear himself over the music. He turned away from the speaker and moved towards the table he habitually used, ducking down to crawl under it. Green lights winked at him happily from the shadows and he found himself grinning.

“Hey, Dum-E,” he said quietly. He pulled the robot and its charging station closer and pressed his thumb to a scanner on the side of the base. There was a soft beep and the lights changed from green to red as the robot slowly straightened up. It stretched its arm out to him and he tapped his knuckles against it lightly. It beeped again and rolled off its charging station and past Tony, who was quick to follow it – Dum-E was known to wreak havoc when left to his own devices – grabbing his notebook from his backpack on the way.

“We’ve come a long way from setting fire to the Aeronautical clubhouse,” Tony told Dum-E. Dum-E beeped again, just audible over the music, and whizzed past him to the go and poke at a box of scraps. Tony let it, watching carefully for any sign of the defection he had noticed two days ago, and after about a minute spotted it. When Dum-E’s arm turned to the right, the motion was smooth and uninterrupted. When it turned to the left, it became jerky and uneven. Tony looked in his notebook, flicking back a few pages until he found where he had started the notes on how to fix it. He studied them briefly and looked back up at Dum-E, who had abandoned the box of scraps and was now trying to use a spanner to tighten a screw. Tony rolled his eyes.

“Dum-E,” he called out, “come here.”

The robot beeped and trundled over to him, stopping when it bumped into his toes. Tony frowned. That was another thing he would have to check. Obviously the spatial sensors were off. He quickly made a note in his book and crouched down to pick the robot up to place it carefully on the worktable.

“Don’t move,” he told it firmly. The first time he had done this, Dum-E had rolled right off the edge of the table and Tony had had to spend three days fixing the damage. He had made the robot wear a “dunce” cap the entire time. Tony had learned his lesson and gave the robot the same instruction every time he worked on it.

Once Tony was sure he would stay put, he set about digging through the lab toolbox and pulled out several screwdrivers and a small handheld drill.

“Ready?” he asked Dum-E. The robot beeped and Tony got to work.

*

Tony’s phone was ringing. He knew that he should answer it because an actual phone call meant that Pepper or Rhodey – or, god forbid, his father – was trying to get hold of him for an important reason, but that would mean waking up properly and Tony was just not prepared to do that.

His phone fell silent after a minute and he rolled over and was just drifting off when it started again. Letting out a groan that could probably be heard by the neighbours, Tony leaned over to answer it.

“Hello?” he said, his voice rough with sleep.

“Where are you?” Pepper’s voice asked him, not bothering with a greeting. Tony closed his eyes.

“Where should I be?” he asked.

“We’re having a meeting to discuss the fundraisers,” Pepper told him, sounding distinctly unimpressed.

“Pepper,” Tony said, screwing up his eyes, “Pepper, please, light of my life, let me sit this one out. I’m begging you. I was up all night – “

“In the Engineering Club’s lab,” Pepper interrupted him pointedly. Tony winced.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” Pepper continued, now sounding exasperated. “The key’s been gone since yesterday morning, Tony.”

“I was going to give it back,” Tony grumbled.

“Good,” Pepper replied. “You can do it at the meeting. Otherwise I’ll send Natasha to fetch it.”

And with those parting words, she hung up. Tony took the phone away from his ear and started at it.

“Well fuck,” he muttered. If it weren’t for the threat of Natasha, he would quite happily have disregarded the entire conversation and gone back to sleep; but there was no doubt in his mind that Natasha could get into his room and would quite happily use him for knife-throwing practice if the urge took her. Or she’d let Clint use him for target practice. And Clint never missed. Either way, his odds were not looking good, so he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower where he stood for five minutes to wash last night’s grime off before getting dressed and heading out the door.

Twenty minutes later, he was sitting opposite a very disapproving Pepper, his cup of coffee from his second-favourite coffee shop held tightly in his hands, feeling much more awake.

“Now that we’re all here,” Pepper said, shooting a pointed look at Tony, who blinked back at her innocently, “we can begin. The Aeronautical Club has agreed to host the party with us and they have generously offered the use of their clubhouse for the event. Their committee will stop by later so that we can all chat about it, so if you have any questions, you can ask them then.”

She looked around the room and received nods in response to her words.

“Good,” she said. “On to details of our upcoming competition.”

Tony let her words wash over him as he settled back in his seat and sipped at his coffee contentedly. From across the table, Rhodey caught his eyes and frowned slightly, mouthing, What time did you sleep?

Tony grimaced and shrugged. He held up five fingers and then flattened his hand and rocked it from side to side. Rhodey rolled his eyes and Tony grinned. Rhodey would probably tell Pepper, who would then almost definitely shout at Tony about his health, but Tony couldn’t really bring himself to worry too much about it. He had made huge progress with Dum-E last night – more than he had in the previous month, he felt – and he was still riding the high from it.

The door swung open while Tony was still lost in last night’s memories and he looked around. Silhouetted in the doorway was James Barnes, with Clint Barton standing to one side and behind him, people Tony did not recognise.

“Are we early?” Barnes asked, his bulk blocking the others from entering the room.

“Not at all,” Pepper replied. “Come on in.”

Barnes stepped aside to let the others into the room. Clint stepped past him first and walked around the table to slide into the empty seat behind Natasha. Three other people followed him and Barnes introduced them as Pietro and Wanda Maximoff and Scott Lang. Pietro had a runner’s build and a shock of white hair and his sister – Tony presumed – was small, with long brown hair. At the third person, Tony did a double take. He recognised Scott Lang from some of his classes and was vaguely surprised to see him here. He had never really shown all that much interest in Aeronautics, and definitely not enough to be on the committee for their club.

Barnes walked to Pepper’s end of the table and sat down in the empty seat beside her that Tony now realised had specifically been kept empty for him.

“Steve sends his apologies,” he said to Pepper as he sat down. “He had a meeting with a lecturer that he couldn’t get out of.”

“It’s no problem,” Pepper replied and Tony couldn’t prevent the indignant “What?” from escaping his lips. Everyone turned to look at him. Pepper raised an eyebrow.

“How come this Steve guy gets to miss this meeting and you shit on me just because I’m late?” he demanded.

“Because Steve has a legitimate reason for missing it,” Pepper informed him. “You slept late.”

“That’s a legitimate reason,” Tony protested. Pepper frowned at him.

“Where’s the key, Tony?” she asked him. Tony opened his mouth to reply and then deflated. He dig in his pocket and pulled the lab key out, tossing it to land on the table in front of Pepper.

“I’m with you,” Clint muttered when it had landed. “Sleeping is a very legit reason for missing something.”

From beside Pepper, Barnes rolled his eyes.

“If you two are done, can we get down to business?” he drawled, his Brooklyn accent slipping into the words. Clint grinned and shot him a thumbs up. Barnes shook his head in exasperation and turned to Pepper.

“Ready when you are,” he told her and she smiled at him before she began to speak.


	4. Until Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The decorations for the party fall apart and Tony helps solve the problem.

“Barnes! Hey, Barnes!”

 

Tony called out as loudly as he dared over the sound of the lecturer talking, but Barnes’ head remained pillowed in his arms on his desk. Tony cursed under his breath and cast about for something to throw at him to get his attention. His eyes lit on an eraser and he glanced quickly at his neighbour who, fortunately, looked to be as sound asleep as Barnes himself was. Without pausing, Tony grabbed the eraser and threw it at the back of Barnes’ head. It hit him squarely and Tony had a split-second to be impressed with his aim before Barnes jerked upright and spun around in his seat. Tony waved frantically to grab his attention and his eyes narrowed.

 

 _What_? he mouthed. Tony gestured for him to come closer and Barnes shot a quick glance at the lecturer before slipping out of his seat and across the aisle, into the one beside Tony.

 

“What?” he hissed impatiently, dropping the eraser into Tony’s lap. He picked it up and shoved it across the table, back to its place in front of its owner.

 

“Pepper asked me to tell you that something went wrong with the decorations and that the people who were doing them can’t anymore,” Tony told him. Barnes stared at him.

 

“What the fuck does that mean?” he demanded, his voice far too loud for the quiet room. Heads turned to face him the lecturer looked around.

 

“Is there a problem?” she asked coolly. Even though there was no way of her knowing exactly who had spoken, Barnes and Tony both slid down in their seats. The lecturer glared around the room again before turning back to the board.

 

“Why can’t they do them?” Barnes whispered to Tony.

 

“How should I know?” Tony replied in the same tone, spreading his hands. “Pepper just asked me to pass on a message.”

 

Barnes let out a low groan, sliding lower in his seat so that he was in danger of slipping right out of it.

 

“God, this is a fucking disaster,” he muttered. “The party is on Friday and now we have no goddamn decorations. Shit.”

 

“Why are they so important?” Tony asked. Barnes looked at him sideways.

 

“Don’t you ever listen in meetings?” he asked. “It’s a Hallowe’en party. If we don’t have decorations, it’ll just look fuckin’ dumb.”

 

Tony frowned in thought.

 

“Hallowe’en,” he repeated slowly. “So, what? Spider webs? Ghosts? That sort of thing?”

 

Barnes shrugged.

 

“Something like that,” he replied. “Pepper was organising it, so I don’t actually know, but she did say something about monsters.”

 

Tony raised an eyebrow.

 

“Monsters?” he repeated. Barnes nodded.

 

“3D ones,” he said. “Sculptures or statues or something.”

 

Tony straightened up and turned to look at him and Barnes raised his eyebrows.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“Isn’t Steve Rogers studying art?” he asked. Barnes’ eyes widened and he swore.

 

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, pulling out his phone. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

 

Tony didn’t reply, watching as Barnes typed something into his phone. A few minutes later, it buzzed in his hands and he and Tony both looked down at it.

 

“He says he can do it,” Barnes confirmed. “He just needs a general idea of what we want.”

“Ask if he can make them so they can move,” Tony said. “We can put motors in them and scare the shit out of people. They’ll love it.”

 

Barnes turned to look at him with something like awe in his eyes.

 

“You’re a genius,” he told Tony. Tony rolled his eyes.

 

“Well, duh,” he replied. Barnes pointed a finger at him.

 

“Don’t get cocky,” he said. Tony grinned.

 

“Too late,” he replied. Barnes snorted, but didn’t look up from his phone.

 

“He loves the idea,” he reported a short while later. “Says that he can get them to the labs by Thursday.”

 

Tony nodded slowly.

 

“That’ll work,” he replied and then turned to Barnes. “Will you be able to help?”

 

Barnes grimaced.

 

“Probably not,” he admitted reluctantly. “I’ll be helping Pepper set up.”

 

“That’s fine,” Tony replied, already thinking of who would join him. “Peter Parker will do it. Bruce too, probably. And Shuri, of course.”

 

“Sounds like you’re all set,” Barnes said, looking amused. Tony grinned and looked around in surprise as the people surrounding them began to pack up, chattering as they did. Barnes glanced around and then grabbed Tony’s notebook and pen.

 

“This is Steve’s number,” he said, scribbling in it quickly. “If you think of anything you need, ask him.”

 

He got to his feet and shot Tony a salute and a smirk before crossing the aisle again to pack up his things. Tony rolled his eyes and turned back to his notebook.

 

*

 

Steve’s creations arrived at the lab on Thursday morning and Tony shook his head in amazement as he looked them over. The first was a Frankenstein’s monster, an enormous thing that stood nearly eight feet tall, with pasty green skin and a mouth twisted into a wide snarl. The second was a werewolf reminiscent of the one from the third Harry Potter movie: tall, thin and completely hairless, with long fangs that jutted out over its lips. The third wasn’t a single entity, but instead a cluster of bats all roughly the size of Tony’s hand, with gleaming white fangs and bright red eyes. The last was the most eerie of them all. It was a man wearing a hooded cloak, but in the place of a face was a red skull with black eyes that glared out at the world. It was so realistic that Tony almost expected it to move, and he took a step back with a shudder.

 

A soft beeping noise drew Tony’s attention away from the sculptures and he looked down to see Dum-E wheeling across the room.

 

“Mr Stark?” a familiar voice called out and Tony followed Dum-E to the door. He stuck his head out and spotted Peter and Suri standing a short way away.

 

“Over here, kid,” he called out. “And what have I said about calling me that?”

 

Tony _adored_ Peter, like the little brother he’d had never had. He had met Peter in the class Tony was the TA for, and had at first written him off as an awkward, people-pleasing first year, until Peter had spent ten minutes explaining why the lecturer was incorrect in his equations. The lecturer, Ho Yinsen, had been just as impressed by Peter as Tony was and had asked him to stay after the class. He had explained that scientific concepts did not always translate well from his native Hungarian to English, which was part of the reason he had Tony to help him. Peter had insisted on calling Tony “Mr Stark”, regardless of what Tony said and did to try and stop him, and it was only when Tony extended him an invitation to the Engineering Club that he had finally begun to call him Tony, always grinning sheepishly when he slipped up, as he was now. Tony didn’t give him time to get embarrassed, ushering him into the room as soon as he reached the door. Peter’s eyes widened.

 

“Oh, _wow_ ,” he exclaimed, staring up at the sculptures. “Did you do these?”

 

Tony snorted.

 

“Are you kidding me?” he asked. “Definitely not. This was Steve Rogers.”

 

“They’re quite incredible,” Shuri said as she followed Peter. “He is very talented.”

 

“He is,” Tony agreed. “Now, who’s ready to rip ‘em apart?”

 

Peter and Shuri both shot him horrified looks and he laughed.

 

“Relax,” he told them. “We're not actually going to do that. Rogers made them so that we could add motors to make them move.”

 

“No way,” Peter breathed. “That’s so cool!”

 

“I want the Frankenstein,” Shuri said, turning to point at it.

 

“I’ll take the werewolf,” Peter said eagerly. Tony nodded and turned to look at the man with the red skull.

 

“Guess it’s you and me, buddy,” he told it. It didn’t respond (fortunately).

 

“Who will do the bats?” Shuri asked, inspecting one.

 

“We can do those together,” Peter suggested. Tony nodded.

 

“Perfect,” he said. “Let’s get to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song "Until Tomorrow" from the musical version of "A Tale of Two Cities". This is the one song so far that I have not actually heard because I. Can't. Find. The. Soundtrack. But the title fits the chapter because tomorrow (ie. the next chapter) we finally meet Steve!
> 
> Hopefully chapters will starts to get longer because I've finished school for the semester, but we'll have to see.
> 
> I really wanted to work Marvel villains into Steve's creations, but the villains that I've seen just aren't all that scary when taken out of context. Except Red Skull, because what the shit.
> 
> I hope you enjoy and please let me know if you spot any mistakes.


	5. Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the party arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fully intended to make this chapter a) longer and b) the actual party chapter, but that did not happen, so I am going to refrain from making promises in the future.
> 
> This chapter is mostly a Tony & Bucky interaction because I really like the idea of Tony and Bucky being friends. That's definitely going to fall to shit at some point, so enjoy it while it lasts!
> 
> Title is from "Tonight" from "West Side Story".
> 
> As always, enjoy and let me know if there are any mistakes!

The day of the party dawned bright and sunny and Steve Rogers was pretty sure that he had never dreaded anything more.

 

“I barely worked on those decorations for a week, Buck,” he told his best friend over breakfast. “A _week_.”

 

Bucky shrugged unconcernedly as he buttered his toast.

 

“So?” he replied. “If anyone hates them we can just pretend that’s the point. Part of the aesthetics.”

 

Steve groaned, dropping his head onto the table.

 

“It’s a college Hallowe’en party, Rogers,” Bucky said, exasperated. “It’s not a commission of the queen’s portrait. No one’s going to give a shit.”

 

Steve lifted his head to glare at him.

 

“I’ll give a shit,” he said indignantly.

 

“And you’ll be the only one,” Bucky replied sagely, and then paused. “Well, you and Pepper Potts.”

 

“You’re not helping,” Steve informed him.

 

“Again, don’t care,” Bucky replied. “Now quit your whining, we’re going to be late.”

 

Steve pulled a face at him, which he ignored, and stepped into his bedroom to get changed. When he returned, Bucky was standing near the door, chewing the inside of his cheek as he looked down at his phone.

 

“Clint?” Steve asked by way of announcing himself. Bucky nodded without looking at him.

 

“He says they’ll start setting up at around two,” he said. “I have class then, but I’ll try to get there as soon as I can.”

 

Steve nodded.

 

“I have a shift until four, but let me know if I can do anything,” he offered, swinging his bag onto his shoulder. Bucky shot him a considering look and frowned slightly.

 

“Are you sure you’ll be able to handle it?” he asked, his voice full of mock concern. Steve rolled his eyes.

 

“Ha ha,” he said dryly. Ever since his body had finally caught up to his personality – Bucky’s words, not his – Bucky had taken great pleasure in teasing him about what he could and couldn’t do. He claimed it was payback for all of the times Steve had insisted he was fine and had later ended up in the emergency room.

 

“I was actually just going to come to make sure that you and Clint actually work, instead of having a pissing contest over who has better aim.”

 

Bucky snorted.

 

“Like you wouldn’t join in,” he pointed out, rolling his eyes. Steve grinned.

 

“And wipe the floor with you,” he agreed, pushing past Bucky to walk through the door.

 

“It shouldn’t be possible for you to bounce your chosen missile off of anything and still hit the target,” Bucky protested, following him. “It doesn’t obey the laws of physics.”

 

Steve’s grin widened, but he didn’t reply as Bucky locked the door and they set off down the corridor together.

 

*

 

“Next, please.”

 

Tony shuffled up to the counter of the coffee shop, swaying slightly on his feet.

 

“What can I get you?” the barista asked and Tony was too tired to even look up at his face.

 

“Give me one of your biggest, most caffeinated drinks,” he replied, slapping down a twenty-dollar note on the counter. “With none of that other shit to dilute it.”

 

There was a brief pause before the barista responded with, “Okay,” in a slightly amused voice. Tony didn’t have the energy to feel offended as the barista took his money and he slumped over on the counter, resting his forehead on the cool, hard surface.

 

“Sir?”

 

Tony grunted in reply.

 

“Sir, you can collect your drink on the other side of the counter,” the voice continued. Tony straightened up.

 

“I know how the system works,” he grumbled.

 

“And here’s your change,” the barista added. Tony waved him away.

 

“Keep it,” he said through a yawn.

 

“Keep – keep it? There’s more than fifteen dollars here,” the barista protested.

 

“Mhm,” Tony agreed, already on his way to his coffee. “Buy yourself something pretty.”

 

Someone snorted with amusement, but Tony didn’t even look around to see who it was because a hot cup was being pushed into his hands and it smelled like coffee and that was all Tony cared about. He took a sip that was hot enough to destroy half of his taste buds and let out a sound that was not fit for public consumption.

 

“Oh my god,” he groaned, closing his eyes. “That’s so good.”

 

“Glad you like it,” a familiar voice commented and Tony cracked open one eye to see who it was.

 

“Barnes?” he said with a frown. “What are you doing here?”

 

Barnes raised an eyebrow.

 

“Some of us actually have to earn money to go to school, Stark,” he drawled lazily. “Now could you shift over? You’re blocking the line.”

 

Tony shuffled over as bid and watched as Barnes set about with the next order.

 

“Have you always worked here?” Tony asked him.

 

“Started last week,” Barnes replied, pumping something into the cup. Tony pulled a face and Barnes raised an eyebrow.

 

“You got something against caramel?” he asked.

 

“Why would anyone want to dilute coffee?” Tony replied rhetorically. Barnes answered anyway.

 

“Some people don’t have pure caffeine running through their veins,” he observed, adding whipped cream to his creation. “You writing the thermos test today?”

 

Tony blinked at the abrupt change of subject.

 

“Yeah,” he replied. “You?”

 

Barnes pulled a face.

 

“No, thank god,” he replied, placing the finished drink onto the counter. “I wrote it on Wednesday.”

 

“How was it?” Tony asked.

 

“A fucking nightmare,” Barnes replied with feeling. “You’ll be fine, of course, but for the rest of us mere mortals it was a goddamn bitch.”

 

He turned back to the coffee machine and started on the next order.

 

“You ready for the party tonight?” he asked over his shoulder. Tony nodded.

 

“Pepper’s making me dress up,” he replied, pulling a face. Barnes laughed.

 

“She’s making everyone dress up,” he replied. “Steve and I are going as World War Two soldiers.”

 

Tony’s eyebrows rose.

 

“My grandpa fought in it,” Barnes explained. “He lent us his old fatigues.”

 

Tony’s eyebrows rose higher.

 

“You and Steve?” he asked. “You’re going to wear the same man’s clothing?”

 

Barnes turned to him with a confused frown.

 

“Yeah?” he said.

 

“Isn’t Steve – “

 

Tony held up a hand roughly at shoulder height and Barnes stared at him for a moment before he burst out laughing. The other baristas and several customers looked at him in surprise.

 

“What?” Tony asked, now thoroughly confused.

 

“Oh, man, I’d forgotten how long it had been since you saw Steve,” Barnes said, still laughing.

 

“Has he got bigger?” Tony asked. Barnes grinned at him.

 

“Come to the party tonight and you’ll find out,” he replied. Tony frowned and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Barnes nodded over his shoulder. Tony turned to see Rhodey standing near the door of the coffee shop, his eyes scanning the crowd. His gaze landed on Tony and he jerked his head towards the door.

 

“Enjoy the test,” Barnes said cheerfully from behind him. “I’ll see you at the party.”


End file.
